


Wrung the Heart

by Spacecadet72



Series: If You're Not the One [10]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Marriage of Convenience, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 10:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13569171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacecadet72/pseuds/Spacecadet72
Summary: Chat Noir drops by Marinette's place because he needs to see her, but everything reminds him how much he wants more.





	Wrung the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe that I'm posting another story in this 'verse already, but I'm not fighting it, as I'm sure you guys aren't either. :D
> 
> This was prompted by teddyquin on tumblr. I am open to prompts for this 'verse, so let me know if there's anything you want to see. 
> 
> Title from a quote by Virginia Woolf:  
> “To want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain. And then to want and not to have- to want and want- how that wrung the heart, and wrung it again and again!”

Chat let himself into Marinette’s living room through the window she always left open for him. He had initially chided her for it, saying it wasn't safe. She had just laughed, and brushed off his concerns. “Who’s going to get in besides you? I’m on the third floor.” 

She had even started calling it “his window” and as ridiculous as he knew it was, it warmed him to have something at her place that was his, as if they were really married. 

He was just closing the window when Marinette walked into the room. 

“Oh, hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” she said with a smile as she came over to give him a hug. “Hello, husband,” she said as she pulled back, her smile widening. 

“Hello, wife,” he answered as had become their routine but his smile felt a little strained and he wondered if she could see it. If she knew just how much he wished he could say those words and have them mean something real and lasting, and not just a joke between two friends. 

“I was just about to make some cookies if you wanted to help me,” Marinette asked a she walked over to the kitchen. 

“I’d love to, but I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said, feeling unsure as he followed her. She had been much cooler with Adrien earlier--still friendly, but less familiar--and it felt it felt like she was drawing a boundary between them. It had given him hope and he’d known he needed to see her as Chat. Now that he was here though, he wasn’t sure it had been such a good idea. 

Marinette looked up from where she had been grabbing ingredients from a lower cupboard. “Chat, I’ve told you, it’s no intrusion. You’re always welcome.” 

Chat nodded. She had said that, and always seemed happy to see him, but he wondered how much of that was just their friendship or her gratitude over how this arrangement was saving her business. 

He mentally scolded himself, knowing he didn’t need to go down that road again and joined her on the other side of the kitchen island. 

“Alright, what do you need me to do?”

She handed him a bowl and pointed to the measuring cups, ingredients and recipe that she had laid out on the counter. “Mix the dry ingredients in that bowl and I’ll get the wet ingredients ready.” 

He took the bowl and they each began following the recipe and measuring ingredients in silence. Before this, silence had never been a particularly positive thing in his life. Silence was still the large, empty house he had grown up in with his father, and the meals he ate alone. But with Marinette, he could comfortably share her space with neither of them saying anything. It wasn’t lonely. It felt nice, like she liked him enough to want him around even when they weren’t actually doing anything together. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Chat said, pushing his bowl a little closer to hers. 

“Perfect timing,” she said as she gave the ingredients in her bowl one last stir. “Now, I need you to slowly pour the dry ingredients into my bowl while I stir.” 

Chat did as she asked, pouring slowly, until some of the dry mixture shifted and fell into the bowl all at once causing a cloud of white powder. 

“I’m sorry--” he began, pulling the bowl up so nothing else could fall out. 

“Don’t worry about it, Chat,” Marinette said with a small laugh, “it happens.” She wiped at her face, but missed a small spot of flour on her nose. 

“Oh, you’ve got a spot--” Chat said, gesturing to her nose. 

Marinette rubbed at her nose, still just missing the spot of flour. “Did I get it?”

Chat shook his head. “Let me,” he said as he leaned in closer and wiped the flour off her nose. He realized once it was off just how closely they were standing. She was looking up at him, her cheeks red, as if she too had noticed their close proximity. His eyes glanced down at her lips, his thoughts going to just how much he wanted to kiss her right now. But even with the hope that had started to spring up during her interaction with Adrien earlier, he couldn’t, and wouldn’t jeopardize the comfortable familiarity they had because he’d let his feelings run out of control. 

He took a step back and held his bowl out next to hers. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to start pouring again.” 

She nodded, unable to look at him. “Thank you,” she said, sounding just as stiff as he had. 

He was able to relax a little as they finished making the cookies, and by the time the cookies were in the oven, he felt that he had gained back most of his equilibrium. 

Marinette set the timer for the cookies, and then hopped up on the counter to wait. Chat smiled at the sight of her in her pajama shorts and sweater, sitting on the counter as she kicked her legs a little. He moved a little closer and leaned against the counter next to her. 

“How was work? I didn’t ask earlier.” 

“Long,” she said, sounding tired, but she was smiling. “We’ve got a huge custom order for a wedding and we’re just trying to get everything done. The bride has fourteen bridesmaids, and she wanted each dress to be different while still looking like a cohesive set.” 

Chat’s eyebrows raised. “Fourteen? Why does she need that many?”

Marinette shook her head. “I have no idea. She has too many friends and doesn’t know how to pick between them? Whatever the reason, I’m sure it will make for an interesting wedding. You know,” Marinette said, leaning over to bump his shoulder with her arm lightly, “I know our situation is different, but it makes me glad that our wedding was so lowkey.” 

“You mean you didn’t want a wedding party of thirty?” he asked with a smirk. 

Marinette laughed. “That sounds like a nightmare.” 

“But a more traditional wedding might have been nice,” Chat said, wondering if she ever regretted it. She had never said anything to him about it, and he wasn’t sure that she would even if she felt that way, but she had given up so much to marry him. 

He looked over at Marinette and she looked contemplative. “Yeah, but I kind of like what we’ve got going. Who else is going to have their husband drop in through their window in a mask and a cat suit? I’m pretty lucky.” 

Chat opened his mouth to say something when the timer for the cookies went off. Marinette hopped off the counter and after declaring the cookies perfect, pulled them out of the oven. 

They ate the warm cookies as soon as they were cool enough to eat, and Marinette finished telling him about her day. He listened to what she was saying, he really did, but occasionally he would get distracted by the way her eyes lit up as she spoke about her designs or how she had a small bit of chocolate smeared next on her lip. He didn’t point that out, not sure he could handle watching her lick it off. 

Finally, after they had eaten more cookies than they probably should have, Chat knew it was time for him to go home. 

“Thank you for the cookies, Marinette, but it’s time for this cat to head home.” 

“I’m glad you stopped by, Chat. It was good to talk to you,” she said as she put a few cookies in a ziploc bag. “Goodnight, husband,” she said as she handed him the bag. 

Chat took the cookies, but hesitated knowing he couldn’t call her his wife right now, not when what he was starting to want with her was a real marriage, with love and a real future. Instead, he pasted on a smile and stepped closer to the window. 

“Goodnight, Princess,” he said before leaping out the window and into the night.


End file.
